


Crosses to Bear

by Omninerd90



Series: Guns and Ghouls [4]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Swearing, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-20 20:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omninerd90/pseuds/Omninerd90
Summary: Rose has finally found her son, but the reality is far from what she'd hoped.  She struggles to deal with the heavy sense of loss and to rediscover her sense of purpose, but the dangers of the Commonwealth wait for no one.  If she doesn't find her way soon, she could end up losing everyone she's come to care for... and her own life along with them.Sequel to "The Family Out of Time."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So just a warning that this fic in particular in going to be heavy on feels. Definitely gonna work some fun stuff/action/smut in along the way, but Rose has a lot of emotional turmoil that she needs to work through.
> 
> For those of you that are still reading this series, THANK YOU! Your love/kudos/comments/bookmarks give me life. Seriously, this community has been so incredibly supportive and amazing, and I wish I had discovered it earlier. You guys are the reason why I love spending hours and hours doing what I do. <3

After barely surviving her first encounter with a deathclaw in Concord, Rose had privately promised herself that she would avoid another encounter at all costs.  That reptilian behemoth- an apocalyptic monster straight out of a nightmare- had come close to gutting her even with the power armor suit she had been wearing. 

Then she’d had to fight off a second one with nothing but her shotgun and a knife when it attacked Sanctuary in the middle of the night; she’d chalked that up to horrendously bad luck. 

But now that she was engaged in a bodily wrestling match with another one, one hand shoved into its jaws and the other attempting to hold it in a headlock, she had to recognize that deathclaw battles had become a disturbingly frequent trend.

At least this one wasn’t interested in killing her.  Yet.

“Ichabod, no!” Rose growled as she tried to lock her arm in between the beast’s neck spikes.  “That is not a toy!  Drop it!  _Drop that right now!_ CARA!”

“I thought I’ve fuckin’ seen a lot in my day, but this about takes the cake.”  A redheaded woman with an Irish brogue watched the struggle from a few feet away, but seemed little inclined to help.

“I must say that this doesn’t appear to be terribly safe, mum,” Codsworth fretted, hovering next to her.  “Is that animal even fully vaccinated?”

“That’s a little beside the point, Codsworth,” Rose snapped through clenched teeth.  “Don’t suppose you’d lend me a hand here, Cait?”

Ichabod shook his head, which rattled her entire frame.  The young deathclaw had decided to make a power pylon his new chew toy; Rose was attempting to retrieve it.  Currently she had her hand clenched onto the slim wooden pole that was still lodged in Ichabod’s mouth.  She would’ve let go and given up when the lizard began acting stubborn, but there was the risk that he’d slice open the copper wiring and electrocute himself… or potentially tear down the rest of the power lines rigged up around Sanctuary.

Cait laughed.  “You might’ve bought my contract from Tommy, but you ain’t payin’ me that much.”

“Then go find… my sister… or John… or _anyone_ fucking useful!” Rose barked in between huffs of breath as she played tug-of-war with the pylon.  Ichabod growled at her as she tried to force his jaws open, and swatted at her with his already impressive claws.  She jerked to the side and smacked the tip of his nose with her open palm.  “NO!  Bad!”

Somewhere not far off, Rose could hear the familiar sound of her sister’s laugh.  A few moments later and her footsteps followed, tripping lightly on the rough road just behind Rose’s back.

“Ah, Miss Cara!” Codsworth exclaimed in some relief.  “I don’t suppose you would help your sister in recovering that pylon?”

“Ichabod, what did you do?” Cara asked, amused.  The cheery blonde stepped up beside Rose and snapped her fingers.  “You drop that this instant!”

The deathclaw immediately spat out the pylon… or what was left of it.  The reptile now outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds, if not more, but obeyed her with the solemnity of a devoted child listening to his mother.  He stepped back and rested on his haunches, yellow slitted eyes watching her closely.

“Thanks,” Rose said with a grimace as she got back to her feet.  She shook her arm sharply a few times in an attempt to rid herself of the saliva that now drenched her left side.  “You couldn’t have come any sooner than that?”

“Oh, he was just playing,” Cara said.  She rubbed the scales underneath Ichabod’s chin and the deathclaw made a happy rumble that wasn’t quite a growl but wasn’t a purr, either.  “He didn’t mean anything by it.  Did you, baby?”

“If that’s his play, I’d hate to see what happens when he gets pissed,” Cait remarked.  “He nearly took your sis’s arm off just now.”

“Ugh, now I smell like deathclaw breath,” Rose said, wrinkling her nose as she picked at her shirt.  “I’m going to go change.  Do me a favor and make sure he doesn’t destroy my _entire_ settlement while I’m gone, okay?  It took them weeks to set up those power lines.”

“You got it,” Cara replied, with a casual smile that came just a second too late.  Rose pretended not to notice and turned away towards the bridge that connected Sanctuary with the Red Rocket Truck Stop.

“Who pissed in her cereal this mornin’?” she could hear Cait ask as she walked away.  She didn’t bother listening to Cara’s admonishment.

It had been just over two weeks since Rose had confronted Shaun at the Institute.  There were a number of things that had gone wrong- disastrously wrong- with that first encounter, the least of which being that Shaun was roughly five decades older than she’d been expecting.  To add insult to injury, he had also tested an experimental anti-radiation drug on her without her permission, one that would rewrite her genetics to make her more capable of dealing with the rads aboveground.  Since there were no visible side effects, he kept her in the dark until she found out on her own. 

That had been the root of their most recent fight.  Rose hadn’t taken kindly to being used as a guinea pig by her own son, particularly without her knowledge or consent.  She had left that confrontation with a warning not to contact her, and hadn’t returned to the Institute or spoken with her son since.

For the past several days, she and her little family of misfits had been staying in Sanctuary.  Rose had decided it was time to move Cara over now that Ichabod had outgrown the tighter confines of Goodneighbor’s walls.  Cara pushed back at first, but when the 250-lb reptile and Dogmeat got into a game of interspecies tag that had nearly left the front gates in splinters, she reluctantly agreed.

And if nothing else, playing General and looking after the needs of the settlements were a welcome distraction.  Goodneighbor had come to feel a lot like home, but it was a little too close to everything Rose was trying _not_ to think about.  Sanctuary, on the other hand, was clear across the Commonwealth and had more than enough menial problems to keep her occupied.  For now.

Originally the plan had been for just the five of them- Rose, Hancock, Cara, Dogmeat, and Ichabod- to make the trek.  Before they left, Rose had received a request for help from several traders who were being harassed by raiders from the Combat Zone.  That problem had been swiftly taken care of, but left them with another new member to the party:  Cait, a foulmouthed cage fighter with some serious addiction problems.  Rose had been reluctant to accept the unstable newcomer, but had caved when her old boss practically begged them to help out. 

Her patience had officially started to run thin when they arrived in Sanctuary and found Preston Garvey already at the settlement.  Her second-in-command normally stayed at the Castle, where he could help oversee the goings-on of the Minutemen in Rose’s absence.  According to him, he had just so happened to have been escorting a new family safely across the Commonwealth, which was how he ended up across the map at exactly the same time she had. 

It was partially true- Rose had seen a few shy faces that she hadn’t gotten around to meeting yet- but that was a job that anyone could have accomplished.  She hadn’t checked in with Preston or the Castle since getting back, apart from radioing them to let them know she was okay.  She had a sneaking suspicion that someone- and she had a few ideas of who- had sent word out to the minutemen stronghold so that Preston could meet them and keep an eye on her.

And if she had any doubts about that, the fact that they were all walking on eggshells around her was obvious enough.  It was driving her mad.

Rose sighed with relief when she spotted the truck stop over the hill and didn’t immediately see anyone else hanging around.  She knew it was all out of love, but the worry and special handling was suffocating.  It was a constant reminder of the flaming train wreck her life had become.  Not for the first time since coming back, she wished she could go back to the way things were… before she had zapped herself into the Institute.

Not long ago she would have given anything to find her son.  Now, she’d give anything just to go back to being the vigilante of the Commonwealth.

She stripped out of her shirt and used the water pump she had built out back to rinse off what was left of the deathclaw drool.  It was a cool day outside, and the water was chilled enough to make her jump when she splashed it against her skin.  Winter was coming on fast.  The nukes had altered the climate enough that winters in the Commonwealth were no longer covered in snow and ice, but late in the season it still got cold enough to be a problem for travelers.  Rain and radstorms became more common, too.  She had her work cut out for her if she wanted to check in on all her settlements before the weather got too unmanageable.    

Feeling a little less gross, Rose stepped through the open garage into the interior of the truck stop.  The darkness and the quiet were like a balm after spending the whole day helping others with their problems.  She dug through her pack to find a new shirt, and paused when her fingers brushed against a dose of Jet.

She wrapped her fingers around the small inhaler and leaned back against the metal frame of the bed.  Drug paraphernalia had become commonplace once she had started traveling with Hancock, but this wasn’t his.  It was hers. 

She’d only used drugs occasionally before… usually to give her an extra boost in a fight.  But she’d discovered that there were several chems that did an excellent job of clearing her mind of any thoughts about Shaun or the Institute, at least for a little while.  She was beginning to understand why Hancock was high as often as he was.  It was like all the bad things that had happened were radio stations put on loop in her head, with the volume blasting as loud as it could go.  The chems helped turn that volume down; sometimes they even changed the station completely.

She wished she could forget all about Shaun.  Sometimes she woke up at night thinking that it had all been a dream, that she hadn’t really discovered that the baby boy she’d been searching for had become a man twice her age.  Or that he had grown into a sociopathic mad scientist with a serious god complex.  Or that he had watched her struggle for months in the wasteland because he was bored and wanted to see how far she’d get.  Or that he’d been perfectly okay with _altering her DNA_ and risking her dying, going completely ghoul, or going feral, just so he could test a drug that might help humans better withstand radiation.

Rose lightly banged her head against the bedframe and sighed.  Almost without thinking about it, her hand went to rest against her abdomen.  She’d gone to see Amari shortly after her impromptu visit to the Glowing Sea… a trip which still left Hancock threatening to handcuff her to the bed whenever it came up in conversation.  She’d had the doctor run every test she could think of so that they’d have a better idea of what exactly Shaun had done to her while she was unconscious in the Institute.  The tests had all mostly confirmed what Shaun had already told her:  radiation rejuvenated her cells, rather than damaging them.  Rose luckily didn’t suffer the physical effects of the ghoulifying drug, the way Hancock had when he’d taken it in its earlier form.  Or at least, she hadn’t yet.  The deterioration involved in becoming a ghoul took time, but it had been three weeks since Shaun had given her the drug, and she looked as human as ever.

Amari thought it was likely Rose would have the longer life span, and possibly even the chem resistance, as well.  All good things, supposedly… no matter how objectionable Shaun’s methods had been.

But Amari had also told Rose that it was more than likely that the drug had made her infertile, like other ghouls.  That was something she hadn’t shared with Hancock, at least not yet.  More children wasn’t something that she wanted… and she had known from the start that it wouldn’t have been possible with him, even if he were willing to try.  But there was a difference between choosing not to want something, and being told that it was no longer a possibility. 

Maybe it was some sense of pre-war values or vanity, but being told she was essentially barren made her feel incomplete, in a way that nothing else had.  She’d grown up eavesdropping on her mother’s whispered conversations with friends about other women who couldn’t- or wouldn’t- give their husbands children.  All of them had been subjects of pity or scorn, sometimes both.  And now she was one of them… and a failed mother to boot.  She felt the sting all the more acutely now that she no longer had a little boy to raise.

She was failing, at everything.  Every single one of the goals she’d had before disappearing into that vault had gone nuclear along with the rest of the world.

 Grimacing, Rose gave the Jet a sharp shake, then held the inhaler to her lips.  The acrid taste of bleach misted over her tongue, and was followed by a warm wave as everything seemed to slow down and fade into the background.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the kudos and comments! You guys are the BEST! <3

“Hey Cait, don’t suppose you’ve seen my better half around, have ya?” Hancock asked. 

He had been hammering out some deals with the local traders while Rose ran around doing her General-of-the-Minutemen thing.  Hunting down creeps and dealing out justice throughout the Commonwealth was great, but caps still needed to be made if Goodneighbor was going to stay afloat.  He saw it as his way of contributing during his extended leaves of absence.  Fahre had taken over the mayor gig, true, but if he’d left the entrepreneurship to her, his town would’ve been dead in the water in a month. 

Rose had never been thrilled about his dealing chems to settlers, but she tolerated it as long as no one under her banner got hooked enough to start causing problems.  She understood the need for an escape from the day-to-day bullshit of the wasteland… maybe now more than ever.

And now the sun was starting to sink low behind the hills, but she was nowhere to be found.

Cait shrugged.  “I dunno.  Ran back off to her truck stop not too long ago after she wrestled her sister’s little pet.  Was in her usual cheery fuckin’ mood.  I didn’t bother to go after her.”

“You let her go off by herself?” 

Preston emerged out of Rose’s old house- Cara’s home, now- with a disapproving expression on his face.  Which was pretty much how he always looked, at least when Hancock was around.  He and Cara had been in there talking about something or other.  To be honest, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think the cowboy had a thing for Rose’s baby sister… but Preston still followed Rose around like a lost puppy.  He’d probably shoot himself in his own foot if she asked.

Preston’s question had been directed at Cait, but Hancock didn’t miss the disparaging look that the boy scout sent his way.  Rose’s second had been a constant pain in his ass since the minute they set foot in Sanctuary.

“She doesn’t need to be babysat, Preston,” Cara said.  She emerged next, with Dogmeat padding along by her side.  Hancock was pretty sure her deathclaw was in the backyard, happily cracking open some radstag bones she’d given him to keep him occupied.

“Ichabod got her all drooly, so she went back to wash up and change,” she continued, taking a seat next to Cait on the porch steps.  “Not a big deal.”

Preston’s expression softened a bit as he looked over at her.  “That’s not what I was implying.  The General-”

“Her name is Rose, and she doesn’t need you to look after her,” Hancock cut in.  His posture was relaxed, but there was a sharp edge to his words that the minuteman didn’t miss.  “She can take care of herself.  And when she can’t, she’s got me.”

“Forgive me if I don’t find that very reassuring,” Preston retorted.  He crossed his arms over his chest.  “There’s no denying you’re good in a fight, Hancock, but you’re impulsive and irresponsible.  She needs someone more level-headed at her back if you ask me.”

Cara objected, “Preston, that’s not really fair-”

“It isn’t?”  His normally warm brown eyes were hard as he glared at Hancock.  “Tell me, how many times has Rose gotten hurt because of a mess _you_ started?”

Hancock bared his teeth and traced the hilt of his knife at his hip.  “You got no goddamn idea what you’re talkin’ about, boy scout.  I oughta-”

“Stop!” Cara demanded, stepping between them.  She put a hand on Preston’s chest and gave Hancock a half pleading/half stern look.  “It’s been a tough few weeks on _everyone_ , and fighting isn’t helpful.  Plus, if you two get into it and get blood on my new porch, I’ll make both of you clean this entire house _together_ until you can learn to be civil to one another.”  She beckoned for Preston to follow her.  “Come on.  I’ve got a few ideas for Sanctuary that I want your input on.”  When Preston didn’t immediately follow, she gripped his shoulder and forced him off the porch.  “ _Move it,_ Preston.”

Hancock glared at Preston’s back as they walked off, flipping his knife between his fingers.  Cait’s eyes were on them too, though there was a smirk on her face.

“You sure it’s your girlfriend who’s missin’ her boy, and not that one?” she asked.  “Woman’s set out to be a mother if I ever saw one.  Set you two to rights without breakin’ a sweat.”

Hancock forced himself to exhale and walk away.  Garvey’s back made too tempting a target.  He shook a couple Mentats out of the tin in his pocket, hoping the buzz might kill off the black mood that morally superior cowboy put him in.  Cait hopped up and stepped alongside him, either oblivious or indifferent to his irritation.

“He’s right touchy, ain’t he?” she asked conversationally.  “Don’t think he’s fond of me, but he damn sure doesn’t think much about you.  Though wantin’ to get in your girlfriend’s pants might have something to do with that, yeah?”

“Don’t you got anywhere else you need to be, Cait?” Hancock asked shortly.  She only grinned.

“Whattya you see in her anyway?  Rose, I mean, not her little sis,” she asked.  “Been tryin’ to figure it out since you two painted the walls red in the Combat Zone.  The druggie ghoul mayor of Goodneighbor and the fuckin’ Chief Do-Gooder of the Commonwealth seem an unlikely match, don’tcha think?”

“You think so?” he replied, somewhat indifferently.  “You anglin’ for a date there, Cait?  Not that I ain’t flattered, but…”

“Ha!”  Cait waved her had dismissively.  “It ain’t like that… though if I do ever go ghoul, you’re the first one I’m lookin’ up.”

“I’ll be holdin’ my breath.”

“It’s just that there’s fuck-all to do out here.”  She looked around as they walked with an expression of distaste.  “This place… it’s just so fuckin’, I dunno, _nice_.  People don’t even have the gumption to get properly pissed, let alone get in a fight or start shit… ‘cept you and Garvey, of course.  Been needin’ something to eat up the hours, decided I may well figure out what makes you all tick.”

“Get in line, sister.” 

The sun was nearly set now; twilight painted everything in a purple light, and dropped the temperature a couple degrees, too.  Hancock could feel anxiety pushing his shoulders up around his neck and tried to force himself to relax.  Just because Rose hadn’t checked in for a couple hours didn’t mean anything was wrong.  Fact was, she was probably safer here in Sanctuary than just about anywhere else, Goodneighbor included.  It was just like he told Garvey; she could look after herself. 

He’d keep telling himself that, anyway.  Rose wasn’t any less capable than she’d always been, but he’d feel a hell of a lot better if he knew where she was.

“Listen, Cait,” Hancock said.  “I’m gonna head out to the truck stop, see if I can’t track my girl down.  Wouldja do me a favor and check up by the old vault before it gets dark?  She goes up there sometimes to visit her husband’s grave.”

Cait arched a fiery brow at him.  “Well that just seems like a barrel of laughs.  Why in the hell would I want to do that?”

“There’ll be some Jet in it for ya later,” he promised.  “Just swing by and check before turnin’ in, is all I ask.”  He paused.  “She ain’t always… predictable, when she’s up there.  So maybe just send word with Codsworth or Cara or someone if you see her, alright?”

Cait snorted.  “’Predictable.’  She’ll be fuckin’ smashed, you mean.”  But she shrugged and headed back towards the center of the settlement.  “Fine, I’ll go looking for your crazy gun-toting lass.  No promises I won’t fight back if she has a go at me.”

He didn’t reply, knowing full well that could be a possibility.  The first time he had encountered Rose up by the vault, she’d been hammered drunk and wielding a gun.  She visited Nate’s grave almost every time they came to Sanctuary.  He supposed it was some kind of penance… Nick called it Survivor’s Guilt once, and that made about as much sense as anything else.  She never seemed to handle it very well, though her visits did get a little easier after finding Cara.

Thinking of Cara made him think of Preston again, which brought his blood pressure right back up.  If it weren’t for the fact that it would unnecessarily upset Rose (and probably Cara too), Hancock would have beaten the shit out of that boy scout several times over by now.  Preston didn’t make much of an effort to hide his distrust or disapproval of Hancock’s general presence.  And though he was careful to keep things friendly when everyone else was around, Hancock was certain that he still carried a torch for Rose.  She said she wasn’t interested, but it still got Hancock’s hackles up when Preston glued himself to her side like some handsome, self-righteous growth.

Hancock kicked a rock over into the water as he crossed the crumbling bridge at the edge of the settlement.  He wondered who had it been that had told Preston they were heading up north in the first place… probably Piper.  It seemed like the kind of thing she’d do, either in the interest of genuinely helping Rose or just for the fun of irritating him.  In all honesty, he could probably like the spunky reporter if she eased up a bit, but he knew that she’d still love to hear that Rose had ditched him on the side of the road.  Or that he’d been disemboweled by a rabid pack of molerats.

The lights were on in the garage; Hancock felt himself breathe a sigh of relief as he saw their yellow halogen glow over the hill.  If the lights were on, then Rose had to be around somewhere.  She didn’t make a habit of wasting power unnecessarily.  

She wasn’t out working on any mods or tinkering with her old power armor suit, and the back room was empty when he checked.  He tried calling her name, but got no response.  Trying to ignore the tightness that was building in his chest, he decided to check one more place before going back to upend Sanctuary.

He climbed up the ladder on the side of the building to the roof of the truck stop.  Rose had a habit of hiding up there when she was trying to get away from… well, everyone.  It was a favorite hiding place of hers.  His too, but for wholly different reasons.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust after the brightness of the lights in the garage, but then he could see her lying on her back in the middle of the roof.  He wasn’t sure if she was awake or asleep.  He stepped over to her, his boots lightly scraping across the concrete.  Once he got closer he could see that her eyes were open; he was certain she could hear him approach, though she didn’t move.

“Hey there, Sunshine.”  He looked down at her, and cocked his head.  “Uh… you forget something, doll?”

“Hmmm?”  Her eyes were fixed on the stars overhead.  “What’s that?”

“Your shirt, love.” 

“Huh?”  She held her arms out in front of her, and looked down at herself in confusion.  “Oh!”  She giggled.  “I forgot.  I came here to change.  _That’s_ what I was supposed to be doing.”

He sat down next to her.  “That was a couple hours ago, love.  How long you been up here?”  He pulled her up against him, tucking her into the folds of his coat.  Her skin was cool to the touch.  “If you wanna make a habit out of walkin’ around in your underwear, I ain’t gonna complain, but you gotta be gettin’ pretty cold out here.”

She snuggled against him, her expression dreamy.  “I was going to come back, but then I saw the stars.  I haven’t looked at them in so long.  I forgot.”

She was high.  If the fact that she was half-naked on the roof at night and giggling wasn’t obvious enough, he could see it in her eyes.  They were glassy, and dilated so wide he doubted he’d have been able to see their pretty green color, even in the light.  Hancock made a disapproving noise. 

“You takin’ a ride without me, doll?”

“Yep.”  She smiled up at him unapologetically, still euphoric.  She reached up to trace the planes of his face with her fingertips.  “I’m glad you found me though.  What’s a nice ghoul like you doing in a place like this?”

He shook his head.  “Uh oh.  If you’re startin’ to sound like me, love, then I think it’s time we cut you off.”

She smiled widely.  “I’ll bet your legs are tired…” She giggled at herself, nearly messing up, “because you’ve been running through my mind all night.”

He groaned.  “Sunshine, that was cheesy even by _my_ standards.”

She shifted to face him, her legs suddenly straddling his hips as she curled her arms around his neck.

“If I told you that you have a great body, would you hold it against me?” she asked.  Her lips brushed feather-light against his as she spoke.

He grinned, and pulled her in more tightly.  “That’s more like it.”

She undulated against him, and hummed in pleasure when he reached around to palm her ass.  He tried to pull her in for a kiss, but she laughed and pushed him onto his back.

“You’re a tease, you know that?” he asked.  She bent over him, her auburn hair falling to make a silky curtain around them.

“I’ll have to find a way to make it up to you,” she purred, and then held something round and plastic up to his lips.  He obediently took the hit of Jet she offered- she must’ve palmed it from his coat pocket- and then took another couple hits for good measure.  He was playing catch-up, after all.

It only took a few seconds for the chem to light up his remaining nerve endings with pleasure, and then there was only her.  No Garvey, no Institute, no bullshit… just her face, the taste of her skin, and the feeling of her body moving with his.  Everything else was just static in the background.

* * *

Later on, Hancock was lying awake in the bed he shared with Rose in the truck stop, watching her sleep.  She was curled next to him, one hand on his stomach and her calf pressed against his.  She was always touching him when they slept together.  He found he couldn’t really relax unless he could feel her fingers entwined with his, or her palm against his neck, or her cheek resting over his heart.  Especially after she had gone to the Institute.  There had been more than one night these past couple of weeks when he jerked awake, only to feel her beside him and remember that she was back and she was real.

At the moment, her face was lightly scrunched in a frown.  From time to time her hands would twitch too, her nails digging into his skin just slightly as her muscles tensed.  She hadn’t had any night terrors for a while now, not the way she used to get.  But it was still rare for her to sleep peacefully through the night.  He brushed a thumb across her forehead, and her brow smoothed. 

Rose had been… different, since coming back from the Institute.  Not exactly in a is-she-a-synth-replacement kind of way; even if he’d had any doubts (he didn’t), he and Cara had been able to confirm that she was the real deal.  Rose had basically forced them to put her under the third degree, asking her all sorts of questions about memories from her pre-vault life to ensure that she wasn’t an imposter.  Amari had run a bunch of tests too (per Rose’s request), and everything pointed to her being 100% herself.  But her behavior was worrying all of them.

Aside from the fact that she had run off to the Glowing Sea by herself shortly after returning to the Commonwealth (an incident which he was at least half to blame for), Rose had become much more withdrawn.  She could go hours without speaking, even when surrounded by friends (which had made the trek from Goodneighbor to Sanctuary feel about twice as long).  Once they reached her home settlement, she started going off on her own… disappearing, without telling anyone where she was going.  Like she did tonight.  She’d always come back, but it made all of them uneasy.

Rose had also upped her chem intake.  Nowadays she joined him on chem breaks more often than not, and he knew there were times- like tonight- that she slipped off to get high on her own.  Cara disapproved, and often complained when she caught him sharing chems with her older sister.  But Rose was a big girl, and if anyone deserved an escape from the shitstorm that was wasteland life, it was her.  At least she could laugh and be happy for a while riding out a high.  She would seem more like herself, seem a little less… broken.

He was there to keep an eye on her, too.  If her chem use started to toe that line between “want” and “need,” he could pull her back into the safe zone.

Rose shifted, mumbling something softly that he couldn’t quite catch.  He rested his hand against the back of her neck, fingers on her pulse.  He didn’t fully understand everything she was going through… would never be able to, probably.  But he could at least try to shoulder the burden a little, make things a little easier while she sorted through whatever was going on inside her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got some action coming up soon guys, I promise. I know these first two chapters were a lot of feels and character-introspection type stuff. n_n
> 
> Next chapter will hopefully bring up the pace a little bit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TRIGGER WARNING* Excessive drug use/ overdose.
> 
> Thanks everyone for your patience with this story... dealing with a lot more hardcore emotions/ character development than I've done with any other story I've ever written, so I've been taking a long time to try and get this right. This is all pretty much 100% new territory for me. 
> 
> As always, thank you all for being so amazing and supportive. AO3 really is the best online writing community I've ever been a part of <3.

“Watch it!”

Rose slipped behind the wreck of a car like she was sliding onto home base, yanking Cait down with her as she went.  Bullets whistled past where Cait’s chest had been milliseconds before.  They had been on their way to check on the Starlight Drive-In settlement when a frantic call for help came in over the radio on Rose’s Pip-boy:  a trading caravan with multiple settlers was being attacked by a group of raiders.  A couple of them were armed, but there were at least six raiders, and one of them was wearing power armor.

A couple yards to the right, Rose could hear the familiar _bang bang_ of Hancock’s double barrel going off.  He was fighting next to the two armed traders; the rest of the party were evidently taking shelter in the wagon they had brought with them.  She popped her head over the top of the wreck to check out the lay of the fight.  They’d already taken out two of the raiders, but that still left four to deal with… including the leader in his junky power armor.

Rose emptied her pistol clip at the leader.  Most of the rounds glanced off of the metal armor, but it kept his focus on her and Cait, which had been the goal.  He peppered the wreck they hid behind with his modified pipe rifle, but that was the thing about using power armor… especially old, poorly restored power armor.  It was big and clunky, and made aiming with higher-precision weaponry a real bitch.

Hancock let out a triumphant shout as they downed another raider.  Cait echoed it with a battle cry of her own as she darted out from behind cover to uppercut another with her baseball bat.  The last unarmored raider wasn’t going to be very much trouble, which left Rose free to move in on their leader.  All she needed to do was get close enough to make his pipe rifle useless and lay into him a few times with her shotgun, and the fight would be over.

She tucked her pistol away and swung her shotgun around to her front, but before she could move a high-pitched wail pierced her ears.  For a moment everyone froze in confusion, distracted; heads swiveled back to the source of the cry like it had been choreographed.  Rose felt ice water surge through her veins; a small child had emerged from the wagon, and was standing out in the open.  She was rooted in place, crying, clearly terrified by the noise and the violence.  A woman was screaming furiously inside the wagon, but by the sounds of it the others were restraining her… probably out of the fear that they’d both be killed.

Rose didn’t think.  She fired at the raider leader- the shotgun blast caught him harmlessly in his well-protected chest, but it rocked him off balance- and bolted for the little girl.  She scooped up the child without breaking stride and tried to run for the same car she’d hid behind earlier, but the other remaining raider popped up in front of them.  He’d taken advantage of the distraction to get around everyone else.  Rose skidded and fell backward as she lost her footing.  Quick as always, Hancock appeared and whaled him in the jaw with the butt of his shotgun, and then pumped both rounds into his chest.

Behind them, there was a roar of rage, followed by gleeful laughter from Cait.

“Fire in the hole!” she shouted.

Hancock dragged her behind the car, and Rose curled herself around the little girl just as the ground shook with a small explosion.  For a moment no one moved, but when seconds passed with nothing but silence they finally straightened up to look at the damage.  The bodies of the raiders lay scattered here and there, and in the center was the tangled, bloody remains of their leader… it looked like Cait had somehow managed to stuff a grenade into the open front of his power armor.

“Guess your fancy armor couldn’t protect ya against that, now could it?” Cait said victoriously, kicking at what was left of the armor.  “And none of you saw that, did you?  ‘Course not.”

“Jade!”

The little girl’s mother burst out of the wagon, and when she saw her baby clinging safely to Rose’s neck she burst into tears.

“Oh thank god!” she sobbed, flinging her arms around Rose and the girl both.  “I don’t know what happened, one minute she was by my side and the next…”

Rose stood rooted to the spot, at a loss for how to react.  Her nerves still thrummed with adrenaline, but it wasn’t the fight that was making her pulse jump now.

One of the armed traders walked up and gently tapped the woman on the back.  “Honey, let her breathe.  I’m pretty sure you two might be strangling her.”

“Oh!”  The woman gently pried her daughter off Rose and stepped back.  “I’m so sorry, I was just so scared that we would lose her.  I don’t know what we would’ve done.”  She turned to the man- who was clearly her husband or partner- and pressed her forehead to his.  “And if we’d lost you…”

In response, the man gently kissed her forehead and rested his hand against her abdomen.  The woman was pregnant… probably in her second trimester, judging from how much she was showing.  No doubt that had been why the others had kept her from jumping out of the wagon after her daughter.

Rose tried to say something gracious, but her throat locked up.  The couple didn’t seem to notice, and now the rest of the group was gathering around too.  She felt Hancock put his arm around her protectively.

“You okay, Sunshine?” he asked in a low voice.  Rose only gave a quick shake of her head in response.

“How can we repay you?” the man asked.  “We’d heard that the minutemen were back, but that was incredible.  You folks really mean business.”

“Caps would be nice,” Cait said pointedly.

“That ain’t how the minutemen do things,” Hancock replied to her.  “The point is to get folks to look out for each other.  Right, Rose?”

Rose was still staring wordlessly at the pregnant mother.  The woman noticed her attention and blushed with pleasure, misreading Rose’s fixation.

“I’m about five months along,” she explained, patting her tummy.  “We knew traveling was a risk, but we’ve heard so many good things about the settlements out here.  Looks to me like we made the right choice.”  She beamed at Rose, and readjusted her daughter on her hip.  “Do you have any children?”

Rose felt her chest constrict.  “I…”

She wasn’t breathing enough.  She was acutely aware that everyone was watching her now, most with expressions of concern, but she could barely think.

The woman’s brow pinched.  “Are you alright?   You look faint.”

She needed to say something, anything.  She was supposed to be going over her minutemen spiel, getting the newcomers on board.  She’d done the same thing with other settlers more times than she could count.

“I’m sorry,” Rose muttered, barely able to get the words out of her mouth. 

“Sorry for wha-?”

Without another word, Rose turned and fled back the way they’d come, almost running in her haste to get away.  She couldn’t do it.  Couldn’t look that family and the others in the eye and smile, and pretend like everything was fine.  She couldn’t pretend like there was a goddamn point to doing any of this, not when everything was so obviously going to shit anyway.

Hancock and Cait could handle getting the traders over to Starlight Drive-In.  Right now, she needed a drink… or several. 

* * *

A few hours later, Rose was drinking by herself in the Red Rocket Truck Stop.  Hancock and Cait hadn’t made it back yet, but she wasn’t worried; she hadn’t heard any distress signals or calls for help come over her Pip-boy.  And it was just as well, because she was in no state to be around anyone.

She took another swig from her bottle.  Usually alcohol helped dull the sting of the guilt and grief that had taken up residence inside her chest, but not tonight.  Instead, it only seemed to make things worse.  The negativity had swelled with each passing minute, until it felt like there was a ball of searing coals burning a hole through her ribcage.  Memories kept flashing through her mind like stills from a camera:  finding the synth-Shaun, her own pregnancy, kissing Shaun’s face before stepping into the cryo tank.  She couldn’t think about anything else.

A crash made her jump.  She looked at the mess of wet, shattered glass in front of her, and then at her empty hand.  She had dropped her vodka.  No, wait, she’d thrown it.  She’d done that?  She didn’t remember making that decision.

With a frustrated sigh, she walked out of the garage and into the back room.  If alcohol wasn’t helping, maybe something else would.  She grabbed Hancock’s pack from where it rested at the foot of the bed and began rummaging through it.  Normally he asked her to wait until he was with her to take anything; he always said it was because he wanted to enjoy the ride together.  That was true, but she knew it was also because he wanted to be able to supervise her.  He didn’t trust that she could handle herself.

So she felt a little twinge of guilt as she raided his stash.  She was already feeling awful, though, so really some extra remorse wasn’t going to make a whole lot of difference.  She’d find a way to make it up to him later.

She tried Jet first.  Usually one or two puffs had her pretty well stoned.  This time, though, it didn’t seem to do much.  She felt her heart rate pick up, felt a little more alert as the stimulant acted against the alcohol in her blood, but the pain still wrung steady tears from her eyes.  So that was a bust.

She searched through the pack again, and found a small green and orange bottle she hadn’t noticed before:  Daytripper.  Hancock had given that to her once, to help her cope with the aftermath of visiting Kellogg’s memories.  It had worked remarkably well at the time, as she recalled.  She shook out two pills and swallowed them without hesitation.  If it worked before, it could work again.  _Something_ had to.

Several minutes passed.  Maybe a half hour, maybe more.   She tried to force herself to be patient, knowing that pills would take longer to kick in, but it was hard.  She leaned against the end of the bed, feeling dizzy and a little sick and wishing she could just leave her body, be a spirit in the ether for just a little while.  Maybe then things wouldn’t hurt quite so much.

And that’s when she heard it.  A giggle echoed through the truck stop, so faint that at first Rose wasn’t sure she heard it.  She got unsteadily to her feet and walked out to the front, listening.  When the giggling came a second time, she pulled out her knife.

“Who’s there?”

For a moment there was no reply.  Rose swayed on the spot, frowning, and jumped when she saw a small figure dart by in front of her.

“Betcha can’t catch me!”

It was a young boy.  Dark-haired, maybe ten or eleven years old if his height and the pitch of his voice was anything to go by.  His invitation was playful, like there was nothing odd about running around a stranger’s home at night.

“Shaun?”  Rose took a few tentative steps outside; she could see the outline of the boy, standing just outside the circle of light that the truck stop cast.  “Shaun, is that you?”

“Betcha can’t catch me, Mama!” the young boy said, waving.  “Come on!  Come play with me!”

She took another couple steps forward, and then the boy turned and ran. 

“Shaun!”

Rose took off after him, following him up the road into the darkness between her new home and her old one.  She lost sight of him once she passed out of reach of the truck stop’s lights, but could still hear him laughing delightedly a couple yards ahead of her.

“Shaun, wait up!  Where are you going?  Wait!”

“Hey, Rose.”

She slid to a dead stop.  She knew that voice, but hadn’t heard it in over a year.  Longer.  A lifetime ago. 

“Nate?”

The man standing in front of her nodded, just a touch of smile on his lips.  “Hey, Beautiful.  I’ve missed you.”

“Is that really you?” 

She reached out to touch him, but stopped short, afraid.  He looked the same as he always had:  neatly combed, short-cropped dark hair; clean-shaven face, faintly spiderwebbed with fine lines that made him look older, but no less attractive; and kind, open blue eyes.  He had the same military stance, hands clasped loosely behind his back with his posture straight as a board.  Every detail was perfect.

“You’re dead,” Rose said doubtfully.  “I watched you die.  I buried you.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m here now.”  He tilted his head, studying her.  “You haven’t been to see me lately.”

“I… I’ve been busy,” she mumbled, still staring at him wide-eyed.  Was this really happening?

“So this new life is more important than your family?”  Nate frowned disapprovingly.

“No, I just-” 

Nate’s features hardened.  “You wasted so much time in finding our son, Rose… running around like some kind of vigilante, instead of focusing on what’s important.  And now look at him.  Shaun would have never turned out this way if you had found him sooner.”

Rose shook her head.  “No, no, I looked so hard!  And I was frozen, I didn’t get out of the vault in time-”

“You intentionally procrastinated.  You never actually wanted to find our son.”

“That’s not true!”

Nate’s face was twisting, becoming harsher by the second.  “Admit it, Rose.  You hated the responsibility.  You wished he had been killed along with me.  It would have been easier for you that way.”

“ _That’s not true_!”  Rose felt the words choke up in her throat, and tears blurred her vision.  “Nate, that’s not true!  I _loved_ Shaun!  I loved you!”

“Did you?”  Nate’s gaze had turned cold, mocking.  “It didn’t even take you six months to get over my death.  You were _relieved_ that I was gone, Rose.”

“That’s not-”

“Don’t lie to me.  You resented my vision for our life.  All I wanted was to provide for you, to raise our son together, to be content and secure.  You felt like I was holding you back.”  His lips curled back in a sneer.  “And now look at you.  High as a kite, with so much blood on your hands I’m surprised you’re not drowning in it.  You used to be a person of morals, Rose.  You used to want to make the world a better place.”

“I still do!”  Her voice echoed around them, high-pitched and desperate.  “Nate, I’m _trying_.  But this world, it’s so different from what we-”

“You’re a killer, Rose.  And a liar.  You’ve abandoned everything you stood for.”

Rose dropped to her knees, sobs ripping from her chest.  “Nate, _please_.  Please don’t do this.”

“He’s got a point.”  The rough, sardonic voice came from the trees to her right.  Kellogg was standing there, smoking one of his trademark cigars and idly loading his .44.  “You made a pretty big case for me being a murderous asshole back in Fort Hagen, but you didn’t turn out any better than I did.”

“I am _nothing_ like you!” Rose snarled.

Kellogg smirked.  “We’re both monsters.  The only difference is that I got paid to be one.”

“ _Shut up_!”  She was screaming now.  “You don’t know anything!  You’re dead!”

“That’s right.”  His gaze met hers, and his eyes were a flat black… empty.  “I’m burning in Hell, just like you wanted.  And I’ve got a nice spot saved when it’s your turn to come down.”

“NO!”

Rose curled in on herself, hyperventilating.  Her hands clutched so tightly at her hair that she was in danger of tearing it out by the roots.

_It’s not real, it’s not real, this can’t be real…_

* * *

“So how did you manage to tame that thing again?”

Cara smiled at Preston, stroking Ichabod’s neck as the giant reptile nuzzled his head into her lap.  “I found him alone when he was just a little hatchling.  I think maybe he wandered away from the nest and got lost, or maybe someone killed his mother or something.  He was so cute; I just couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard someone call of these things ‘cute’ before.”  Preston watched the deathclaw warily.  “And Rose was okay with that?”

“Oh, she complained for days, but she got over it.”  Cara grinned.  “She might be the General of the Minutemen, but she’s not the boss of me.”  She paused for a moment and cocked her head, listening.  “Speaking of… isn’t that her voice?”

They were both silent for a minute.  Sure enough, Rose’s voice cut through the still night air, barely audible but clearly distressed.

“She sounds upset.”  Cara frowned and stood up.  “I should go see what’s wrong, make sure she’s okay.”

Preston stood as well, cautiously edging around Ichabod as he did so.  “I’ll go with you.”

“Ichabod, stay,” Cara commanded, pointing her finger at the ground.  Ichabod blinked up at her lazily, and rested his head on the ground.  “Good boy.”

Rose’s voice got clearer as they crossed over the wooden bridge on the southwest side of the settlement.  She was arguing with someone, and crying.  Cara picked up the pace, worry pushing her into a near run.  Something wasn’t right.

They found Rose just on the other side of the hill between Sanctuary and the truck stop.  It was so dark that they almost didn’t see her; she was kneeling on the ground, hunched over and small.  Her breath was coming in harsh, broken gasps.

“Rose!”  Cara ran forward the last few steps and dropped to the ground in front of her older sister.  “Rose?  Sis, what’s wrong?  What are you doing out here in the dark?”

“Go away,” Rose moaned, curling in on herself more tightly.  “Please, just stop.”

“Stop what?”

Cara tried to put a hand on her sister’s shoulder.  But the instant she touched her, Rose jerked violently backwards.

“I said go away!” Her voice was ragged, somewhere in between a sob and a scream.  “You’re not real!  None of you are!  Go away and leave me alone!”

Cara stared at her, stunned.  “Rose, what are you…”

Rose whipped her head jerkily to the side, staring at someone they couldn’t see.  “ _You weren’t here!_ ” she screamed at the darkness.  “I needed to survive!  You were gone and I was going to die if I didn’t fight back!”

“She’s hallucinating,” Preston murmured.  He watched Rose with a mixture of caution and concern.  “She’s been drinking.”

“I think that’s the least of it,” Cara said grimly, watching as Rose began to back up and whimper.

“No, no, I can’t do that, I can’t.”

“Can’t do what, Rose?” Cara asked gently.

“I don’t want to go, please don’t make me go.”  Rose began to cry again.

“Go where?” Preston asked.  She didn’t answer.  It was almost like she had already forgotten they were there.

“We need to take her back,” Cara said worriedly.  “She’s totally out of her mind.”

“You promise?”  Rose looked up, this time at a lower height than she had previously.  Like she was speaking to a child.  “I just want the pain to stop.  You promise it’ll go away?”

Preston started forward.  “What is she…?”

Rose took something out of her pocket and held it near her arm.  Cara saw the moonlight glint off the vial, and felt her heart stop.

“Jesus, Rose, no!”

She lunged forward, but Rose had already stabbed the needle into her skin.  For a moment Rose seemed frozen… but then the Med-X vial fell out of her hand to the ground, and she collapsed.

“Oh god, please no.”  Cara grabbed her sister’s shoulders and shook her, but Rose didn’t respond.  “Rose, get up!  Open your eyes!  Oh my god, Rose, please get back up!”  She looked up at Preston, panicking.  “Preston, she’s barely breathing!”

Preston slid his arms underneath her and picked her up, cradling her against his chest like a child.  Rose was completely limp, and her skin was already growing more cool to the touch.  Preston ran with her to the truck stop to look for a first aid kit or anything to help; Cara followed.

“I’m going to find Hancock and Cait,” she said, as Preston gingerly laid Rose on her bed. 

“What?”  Preston demanded incredulously.  “Hancock’s the reason she’s-”

“Do you know how to treat a drug overdose?” Cara snapped acidly.  Preston froze, unable to reply.  “Yeah, well, neither do I.  So I’m going to go get someone who does.” 

Preston clearly wanted to argue, but he simply clenched his jaw and nodded.  “Fine.  You’re right.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.  They can’t be far off.”  Cara paused, glancing at her ashen-face sister.  “Preston… keep her alive until we get back.  Please.”

“I’ll do what I can.  Now go.”


	4. Chapter 4

“What a fuckin’ long day,” Cait moaned, stretching her arms out and folding them behind her head as they walked.  “That lot didn’t have any end to their problems, did they?  Dunno how your girlfriend does it all the time.  And for nothin’ but a ‘thanks very much’ on top of that.”

“If more people were willin’ to stand up, she wouldn’t have to work so hard,” Hancock replied.  “Trouble is, is that there’s not enough people who won’t just turn a blind eye to all the bullshit that goes on… if they aren’t directly contributing to it.”

“Yeah, yeah, your girlfriend’s a saint.  We all get it.”

“She’s not a…”  Hancock trailed off, frowning as he looked off down the road.  “Is that Cara?”

“Hancock!”  Rose’s sister waved her hands as she literally sprinted up to them; she looked frantic.  “Oh thank god.  You’ve got to hurry, Rose is…”

She trailed off for a moment as she braced her hands on her knees, out of breath.  She was disheveled and drenched in sweat….  clearly she had been running full speed for a while.

“Something happened to Rose?” Hancock asked.  “Cara, what’s happening?  What’s wrong?”

“Rose overdosed,” Cara explained, still gasping for breath.  “She’s still alive, but-”

“ _What?!_ ”

“We’ve got to go!”

Cara grabbed his hand and yanked him along with her, already starting off at a run again.  They had only been about a half mile away, and reached the truck stop within minutes.  Hancock burst into the back room, but stopped short when he saw the scene there.

“Oh, Sunshine…” he murmured, his voice a near whimper.

Preston had laid her on her side in their bed.  She wasn’t moving; her skin was deathly pale, and her lips and fingers had begun to take on a bluish tint.  Dark bruises tracked up from the crook of her left arm.

“That doesn’t look good,” Cait observed somberly.

“Oh no.”  Cara’s voice trembled.  “Preston, she’s not…?”

“She’s still got a pulse,” Preston said tightly.  “It’s faint, but it’s still there.  If she doesn’t start breathing better soon, though…”

Hancock knelt beside the bed and touched her hand; her skin was dangerously cool.  “What’d she take?  Do you know?”  

Preston glared at him.  “You should know.  It was _your_ stash she got into.”

“Med-X for sure,” Cara said hurriedly, as Hancock started to retort.  “That was what made her… like this.  And vodka too… there’s a broken bottle out in the garage.  I don’t know what else she took.  She was hallucinating really severely when we found her.”

Hancock nodded wordlessly in acknowledgment.  There were any number of things she could’ve taken that would’ve made her hallucinate in high enough doses.  She should have known better than to mix so much stuff together, though… what had she been thinking?

He dug around in his pack for a moment, and used his knife to slit the interior lining.  He fished out something that looked a lot like a Psycho syringe, only it was black instead of silver.

“Move aside, cowboy,” he growled at Preston.

“Are you serious?” Preston demanded.  “The last thing she needs is more chems!”

“If we don’t give her something to counteract that Med-X, she’s gonna stop breathing and her heart’s gonna stop,” Hancock countered.  “And her time is runnin’ out fast, so I swear to god if you don’t get the fuck out of my way I’m going to tear your goddamned throat out.”

“I don’t-”

“Back the fuck up, Preston!” Cara snapped.  She grabbed the minuteman by the collar and forcibly yanked him backwards.  “My sister’s life isn’t a pissing contest!”

Preston jerked away from her.  “You trust him?”

“With _her_ life?  Yes.”

Hancock could hardly hear their arguing over the pounding of his own pulse.  He had done this for friends once or twice before, when partying had gotten out of hand, but now that it was her… suddenly there were a million different things that could go wrong.  Overdrive was basically an amped-up version of Psycho; it would flood her body with adrenaline, theoretically forcing her heart and lungs to pick up the pace again.  It was risky, especially without knowing how much of which drugs were already swimming through her bloodstream.

But it was either this, or wait for her to stop breathing completely, and try to bring her back.  He didn’t think he could do the latter.

Hancock positioned the syringe at the uninjured vein in Rose’s right arm, and paused.

“Sorry about this, love.”

Then he slid the needle through her skin and slammed the whole vial into her bloodstream.

For a moment, nothing happened.  The seconds stretched by agonizingly slow as Rose stayed perfectly still for another two, three heartbeats.  Four.  Five.  Hancock was terrified to move.  What if it hadn’t worked?  What if it killed her?  What if…

Then the spell broke.  Rose spasmed violently as the Overdrive rocketed through her system, igniting every nerve ending along its way.  Her back arched off the bed until it looked like her spine would snap.  An uncontrolled scream tore from her throat; it was just her body reacting to the drug, but it sounded like pain and made them all flinch. 

Then she collapsed back onto the bed, her eyes rolled back under half-lidded eyes.  Hancock hastened to pin her arms down, but there was no need; she was shaking like a leaf, but not seizing.  Most importantly, she was breathing, and her pulse thrummed.  She wasn’t out of the woods yet, but at least she wasn’t on Death’s doorstep.

Now that the immediate crisis was over, Hancock suddenly felt intensely claustrophobic.  All the bodies clustered around the room was suffocating.  He pushed himself back to his feet and backed away, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

 “She’s alive, for now,” he pronounced grimly.  “She’ll need to ride out the rest of whatever she took, though, and that’ll be rough.  Anyone in Sanctuary a doctor?”

“There’s a doctor that’s been staying at Abernathy Farm for a while now,” Preston replied.  Every line in his body was still wire-tight with disapproval; he was obviously livid that Hancock’s plan had worked.

Ordinarily, Hancock would’ve loved to rub it in the boy scout’s face, but he found himself giving orders instead.  “You should send for him.  That Overdrive helped, but it was the only one I had.  We’ll need his help if she crashes again.”  To Cara, he said, “In the meantime, keep an eye on her.  Try to keep her hydrated.  And it’d probably be a good idea to get her to vomit up whatever alcohol’s left in her stomach, if you can.”

“Where are you going?” Cara asked, as Hancock headed for the door.

“I need to get some air.”

“Hancock-”

He strode out into the garage, slamming the door behind him a little harder than was necessary.  None of them followed him, which was a huge fucking relief.  He couldn’t think with all of them staring at him like that.

He had held it together inside, but it felt like someone had hollowed out his guts.  For about the millionth time in the last twenty minutes, he asked himself what Rose had possibly been thinking.  She _knew_ better, he knew she did.  She wasn’t an idiot… and they’d spent so much time together that she probably knew most chems better than just about anyone, other than himself.  So what the fuck had she been trying to do?

He swore and struck out at the workbench, knocking the tools onto the ground with a sharp clatter.  He knew the answer to that.  She was doing the exact same thing he’d been trying to do before he fried the flesh off his bones.  And he’d been fucking enabling it.  He saw the red flags pop up the instant she started sneaking off by herself, making excuses to go take another hit.  He should’ve stopped it right then and there, should’ve confronted her about it, but what else was he gonna do?  It wasn’t like he knew a better way of dealing with life’s bullshit.

His fingers twitched, automatically heading for his pocket as his thoughts roiled, but he caught himself.  For possibly the first time, he felt guilty for craving a hit.  Had Rose really done that to herself because of him?  Of his example?

He heard the thump of the door shutting, and spouted off an impressive stream of vulgarity under his breath.  Some people just didn’t know when to quit.

“Hancock.”  Preston stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes hard.  “We need to talk.”

“Not right fucking now we don’t.”  Hancock turned on his heel and strode outside, towards the back of the building.  “Put a pin in it before you say something you’ll regret, cowboy.”

Preston followed and grabbed his arm, wrenching him back around roughly.  “Don’t walk away from me.” 

“Or you’ll what?” Hancock growled.  He stepped up to the minuteman, fists clenched.  “You’ll kick my ass?  I’d love to see you try.”

“I won’t, but I should.”  Preston released him and crossed his arms again.  “You might have kept her from flatlining in there, but don’t pretend like you’re not the reason she was in that position to begin with.”

“I didn’t give her those-”

“You might not have put the chems in her hand, but you’re the reason she sought them out.”  Hancock didn’t reply, so Preston continued.  “You might be able to run that criminal refuge you call a town while strung out, but people _rely_ on Rose.  She’s actually building something out here, something important, and so far you’ve done nothing but-”

Hancock snapped.  He rammed his shoulder into Preston’s chest, shoving him against the brick wall.  His knife was clenched in his hand, the blade just centimeters from the minuteman’s jugular.  It took all of his will power to keep from jamming it into his throat.

“You really think you woulda done any better, boy scout?” Hancock snarled.  “I’m fucking sick of you actin’ all high and mighty, like you’re some kinda hero.”

Preston gazed at him stonily.  “Better a hero than a man who murdered his way to the top.”

Like he had any idea what he was talking about.  _Goddamn self-righteous prick._

 “You wanna know what I see?” Hancock asked, lips curling back in a grimace.  “Nothing but a fuckin’ coward.  You were so afraid to take on any actual responsibility that you foisted it off on the first soul who cared enough to lend a hand.  How long had she been outta the vault before you enlisted her, huh?  Didn’t matter to you that she was lost and alone and didn’t have the first damn clue about what this world would hold for her.”

“I saw someone who had the strength of will and the desire to turn the Commonwealth around,” Preston said defensively.  “I never forced her into anything.”

“Yeah, Rose’ll help anyone who asks for it.”  Hancock backed away, trying to get his temper under control.  He knew the last thing anyone needed was a brawl, but damn it if being the bigger man wasn’t the most difficult thing in the world at that moment.  “Doesn’t mean you had the right to ask her.  She’s a human, Garvey; not your fuckin’ messiah.”

Hancock tried to walk away a second time, but heard Preston speak behind him.  “You can insult me all you want… but at least she never got hurt when I had her back.”

Hancock froze, his entire body rigid.  _If he says one more goddamn word…_

“What’s your goal here, Hancock?  Really.  Because we’ve all heard you say you love her, but if you ask me it just looks like you’ve been trying your best to get her kill-”

   The rest of Preston’s statement was cut off as Hancock’s fist met his jaw in an uppercut.  The crack sounded like a gunshot in that small space.  Preston stumbled back into the garage, but recovered quickly enough to defend himself when Hancock moved in for a second hit.  He dodged to the side and aimed a jab at Hancock’s ribs, followed by a swift punch to the face.  The jab landed, but the punch didn’t; Hancock was too quick.  He ducked out of the way to Preston’s back and slammed Preston into the workbench, then grabbed the collar of his duster and used it to throw the minuteman into the wall.  Preston collided with the bricks, and then Hancock was on him again, driving his knee into Preston’s stomach and his elbow between his shoulder blades.

Preston dropped, but pulled Hancock down with him.  The two of them wrestled for control.  Preston managed to get in another couple of swings, but even though he had the weight advantage on his side, Hancock was the more experienced brawler… and was less concerned about fighting fair.  Within seconds Hancock had Preston pinned and drove his knuckles into his face once, twice…

“ _Stop_!”

Slender arms wrapped under his and pulled him back.  He made to jump back at Preston, still seeing red, but then Cara appeared; she clung to him in a fiercely tight hug and refused to let him dislodge her.

“Stop, stop, it’s okay, just stop,” she said over and over, in the same low, soothing tones that she used to calm her deathclaw when he started acting up.

Weirdly enough, it worked.  Hancock stilled and felt his breathing settle as she continued to chant in his ear.  If anyone else had tried that, he probably would’ve thrown them into the ring along with Garvey, but the petite blonde was the last person he’d ever want to fight, and she knew it.  Cara had gambled well. 

A couple of feet away, Cait was busy hauling Preston up to his feet.  Hancock felt no small amount of satisfaction at the sight of the blood and bruises marring his dark skin.  She dusted Preston off roughly and thumped him a couple times on the shoulder, making him wince.

“Not much of a scrapper, are ya?” she asked him, smirking.  “I could show ya thing or two about takin’ a hit.  Oughta invite me along next time.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Cara chastised her.  She cautiously released Hancock, and when she was certain he wasn’t going anywhere, she stood back to her feet.  “Okay, I know it has been a _hellish_ night and we are all stressed out of our minds and exhausted, but I am _not_ about to deal with this bullshit.”  She faced Preston with her shoulders back and hands on her hips.  “Preston, take Cait and go get that doctor from Abernathy farm.  Hancock and I will look after things here until you get back.”

Preston objected, “Cara, I don’t think-”

Cara’s green eyes flashed so sharply that they all physically winced.  “At this point, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you,” Cara said firmly.  “Once I’m certain my sister is okay, you two can go back to beating the crap out of each other all you want; I’ll even make the popcorn and sell the tickets.  But you do _not_ want to know what I will do to you if either of you start acting up again tonight.  Have I made myself clear?”

Preston exhaled in a sigh, and his eyes flickered angrily back to Hancock before he nodded.  “Crystal clear.”

“Good.”  Cara reached out and hauled Hancock back to his feet.  “Now do me a favor, and please be careful.”

Cait gave Cara a cocky grin.  “Don’t worry, blondie.  I’ll keep a close eye on this one.”

She slapped Preston again, on the rear this time, and he jumped.

“This is going to be a long walk,” he muttered, which only made Cait grin wider.

“You bet your tight little ass it is.”

The two of them walked back off down the road towards Sanctuary.  Cara watched them until they disappeared into the darkness, and then jerked her head towards the back room.

“As for you, Hancock… we need to talk.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO INCREDIBLY SORRY AT THE UNFORGIVABLE DELAY MY LOVES. I know this took FOREVER (7 months. Yep. I kept count.).
> 
> I wanted to take the time to make sure I was getting all of the emotions right for both Hancock and Rose, and I had to rethink the direction for this particular installment more than once.
> 
> But, to make up for the long delay, I do have a full three chapters posted for you guys <3\. 
> 
> For those of you who are still around, thank you and you're AMAZING! For my new readers, welcome! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy where I'm headed with this and thank you so much for all the comments and kudos!

**(Rose)**

Oh God.  Never, in her entire life, had Rose woken up feeling this horrible.

She had survived being beaten in countless fights, had been tortured nearly to death, had weathered radiation poisoning, and she was pretty sure none of those came close to how she felt at the present moment.  Even before her eyes opened, she could feel every single nerve radiating pain.  Her chest ached like she’d been slammed with a super-sledge.  Her skull felt someone had stuffed it full of glass splinters, and she was somehow hungry, thirsty, and grossly nauseated all at the same time.  Saying she felt like death warmed over would’ve been an understatement.

The night before was a black void.  But if the wave of shame and guilt that was sweeping over her was anything to go by, she’d done something bad.  Really bad.

She shifted experimentally, stifling a groan as every joint popped and creaked.  The touch of a wet tongue at her hand made her jump a little.

“Hey, boy,” she murmured, weakly rubbing at Dogmeat’s furry ears.  “Guess it was a rough night, huh?”

“Oh good, you’re awake!”

The sound of an unfamiliar voice in her room had Rose up in an instant.  She flung herself out of bed, hand reaching out for her shotgun.  She paused when she grasped nothing but air.  Her shotgun was missing?  Why was that?

She never kept her gun out of reach.  What exactly had gone on last night?

“Woah, easy!”  The man in her doorway spread his hands, looking concerned but not afraid.  “I don’t think you should be moving so much just yet.”

She had to agree.  The lurching motion of standing caught up with her, and a moment later she was hunched over a bucket that someone had left beside her bed.  She retched fruitlessly for a few moments until her stomach tentatively settled.  Dogmeat whined, hunched low between her feet as though he could make her better through his proximity.

“Who are you?” Rose asked, once she could speak.  She dropped back onto the edge of the bed and wiped at her mouth, grimacing at the foul taste that coated her tongue and throat.

“Dr. Asher.  From Abernathy Farm?  We met about a week ago.”

She grunted as the memory came back to her.  The doctor had been recruited by a couple of Abernathy’s regular traders, if she wasn’t mistaken.  Trained by Dr. Sun out in Diamond City, but with none of the older man’s acerbic attitude.

“How are you feeling?”

She gave him a withering glance.  “Peachy.  How does it look like I’m feeling?”

He hummed, unbothered by her hostility.  “From what I understand, you’re lucky to be waking up this morning at all, General.  Is it alright if I check your vitals?”

“My vitals are fine.”  She stood up again, a little more slowly this time.  “Where is everyone?”

“I sent your sister home to sleep a couple of hours ago,” Asher said.  His arms were crossed disapprovingly, but he didn’t try to force her to sit back down.  “She wanted to stay, but she was exhausted.  I convinced her that you were in good hands.”

“And John?”

“The ghoul?  He left not long after your sister did.”

That gave her a perturbed feeling that didn’t mix well with her queasiness.  It wasn’t like Hancock to leave her in the care of a stranger… especially one that was male, and especially if she was passed out.

She took a deep breath and let it out as slowly as she could.  “What happened last night?”

Asher’s expression took on a guarded, professional veneer.  “Well, I have only been here for a short while-”

“Do me a favor and cut the bullshit, Asher.”  Rose stepped somewhat unsteadily out towards the garage, and felt a little revived as the morning air cooled her face.  “You don’t have to sugarcoat anything.”

“You imbibed a number of unsafe substances in a very short amount of time,” he answered, after a moment of hesitation.

Rose stopped in her tracks.  “I overdosed.”

Fragments of memory had started to topple back into place.  She remembered a feeling close to panic, and the sight of a shattered glass bottle on the ground.  She had been drunk, and had gone looking for Hancock’s stash… _Oh no._

“You were relatively stable by the time Mr. Garvey fetched me from the farm,” Asher continued.  “It appears that your partner- John, you said?- countered your symptoms with a dose of Overdrive.  I’m not thrilled about what that may have done to your heart, but it was clearly effective.  All the same, you may want to take it easy for a couple of days… at least until we can be sure that you aren’t suffering from any long-term damage.”

His voice had degraded to white noise in the back of her mind.  Not only could she have _died_ , but Hancock had been forced to deal with it.  And Cara and Preston too, by the sound of it.  _Goddamn it._ She bowed her head, pressing her hand over her eyes.  They were all probably furious with her.

“… I feel obligated to say, that substance abuse of this nature tends to be intentionally self-destructive,” Asher was saying.  “Your sister also expressed her concerns that-”

“I need to go make this right,” Rose said, clucking her tongue at Dogmeat and turning back inside to grab her boots and weapons.  “Thanks for sticking around, doctor, but I’ll be fine from here.”

Asher pulled on her arm… and let go instantly when Dogmeat growled. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.  “General, your body went through quite the ordeal last night.  What you need right now is rest.”

“I’ve lived through worse.”  She didn’t bother looking at him as she prepared to leave.  “I appreciate the concern, really, but I’m not spending another second in that bed until I fix this.  Feel free to follow me into Sanctuary if you want.”

“General-”

“Do you really want to try and stop me?”  Her voice was steely as she grabbed her pistol from her pack and checked the chamber.

“Erm… no, I don’t suppose I do.”  Asher sighed.  “Very well.  Do what you must.  I’ll return in a couple of days to check on you.  In the meantime… try to remember that you are only human, won’t you?”

* * *

Rose’s skin crawled as she crossed the old bridge into Sanctuary.  Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed as though there were more eyes on her than usual.  It wouldn’t surprise her that the gossip had spread so quickly.  The General of the Minutemen, defender of the weak and stalwart righter of wrongs, nearly taken out by a chem overdose.  News like that could cross the map like wildfire.

All the attention made her want to crawl into a hole.  She was used to drawing notice, but this was different.  This time they were watching her because she’d let them down.

Fuck, she’d let the entire Commonwealth down.  How the hell was she going to come back from that?

A fresh wave of shame surged into her cheeks, but it wasn’t long before it was replaced by anger.  What right did they have to judge her?  None of them were perfect, either.  She spent her days sacrificing her time, energy, and safety taking care of the things they weren’t strong enough to do themselves.  What she did on her own time was her own goddamned business.

She was still simmering when she reached Mama Murphy’s house.  The old woman was outside in her chair, talking to a man in worn-out road leathers and dark sunglasses.

_Oh for the love of god._ She spun on her heel, having no desire to deal with Deacon or the Railroad’s problems, but Mama Murphy had already seen her.

“Hey, kid.”

Rose froze, shoulders tight, and sighed.  She turned back around and approached the old woman, brow pinched unhappily.

“Hey, Mama,” she replied, crossing her arms as her eyes rested on the man beside her.  “Deacon.  What a surprise.”

“I know, right?”  As usual, the Railroad operative seemed oblivious to her bad mood.  “I don’t get to come up to this end of the Commonwealth too often anymore.  This isn’t a half-bad operation you’ve got running out here.”

“He’s been talkin’ my ear off for the last half hour,” Mama Murphy stated, and then her eyes squinted just a little as she gave Rose an evaluating once-over.  “How you doin’, kid?”

“Had better mornings,” Rose replied noncommittally.  “You haven’t seen John anywhere, have you?”

“He left a while ago with some traders headed out to the Slog.  Said they were askin’ for an extra gun.  He didn’t tell you?”  Rose shook her head wordlessly, and Mama Murphy hummed in sympathy.  “Ah, kid.  I’m sorry.  He’ll be back soon enough though, don’t you worry.”

She didn’t know if that was one of Mama’s drug-fueled premonitions or just her attempt at comfort.  And in Deacon’s presence, she didn’t want to ask for clarification.  Or maybe she just didn’t want to know, period.

“Trouble in paradise?” Deacon asked.

“There a reason for this visit, Deacon?” Rose redirected coolly, as she briefly squeezed Mama Murphy’s hand and started across the street to check on her sister.

Deacon trotted after her, suddenly (and briefly) serious.  “Haven’t heard a report from you in almost three weeks.  Dez was getting antsy… sent me out to check up on you.”

“Making sure I haven’t defected?”

“Or that you’re still breathing.  Which, by the sound of things, has been a pretty close call lately.  What’s up with that?”

Rose gritted her teeth.  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Deacon stepped in front of her in the walkway.  “Look, I know you like to play kickass Commonwealth vigilante, but the Railroad’s invested a _lot_ in your mental stability.  We can’t afford for you to-”

“To what, Deacon?”  She stepped in closer to him, glaring at her own reflection in his opaque glasses.  “You have no _fucking_ idea what I’m going through.  Not you, not Desdemona, not anyone.  How I deal with it is my own goddamned business.”

“We literally have _everything_ riding on you,” Deacon said grimly.  “I feel for you, I do.  But you’re our one shot to take the Institute out and free those synths for good.  The last thing we want is for you to end up doing the Institute’s job for them.  We gotta know that you can handle this.”

“And what if I can’t?”

“We’ve got contingency plans for that,” he admitted.  “Though to be honest, none of them would work quite as well as what we’ve already got going, and would probably leave a lot more of the good guys dead.  As difficult as it is, we _need_ you to get back in there and stay on good terms with your son.  At least until we’re able to make our move.”

Her fists clenched under her arms as she rolled her eyes.  “I can’t believe you came all the way out here for a fucking lecture.  Do you even comprehend what you’re asking me to do?”

He nodded somberly.  “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.”

“Well I’ve been serving the ‘needs of the many’ since I walked out of that vault,” Rose countered.  “So you can fuck right off with that.”

Deacon crossed his arms.  “I don’t think it’s in you to leave those synths to rot in slavery.”

“You’re right; it’s not.  And eventually, I’m going to get myself together enough to go back and be your big goddamned hero just like you want me to be.  But it’s not going to happen today.”

She sidestepped around him to continue into the house.

“Rose-”

“Deacon, I am two seconds away from shoving my gun so far down your throat that you shit bullet shells,” Rose growled.  “I will gladly feed your corpse to Cara’s deathclaw and tell the Railroad that you were mauled to death.”

“Rose!”  Cara appeared in the doorway.  The instant she saw her sister, she rushed forward and grabbed her in a hug so tight it was painful.  “You’re awake!”

“We’ll talk more later,” Deacon finally conceded.  “I’ll be in the area for a couple days yet.”

“I can’t wait.”  Rose stared daggers at him as his walked off.  Her death-glare was interrupted when Cara shoved her roughly back against the house, making Dogmeat bark in alarm.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Cara demanded.  “If I hadn’t put so much effort into keeping you breathing last night I would _kill_ you!”

“I know, I know.”  Rose rubbed her eyes tiredly.  “I’m sure I deserve everything you can throw at me.”

“Do you know how close you came to dying?”

“I have a pretty good idea.”  Rose ducked her head.  “I’m sorry, Cara.  I just…”

She trailed off as her throat threatened to close up.  Cara looked at her for another moment or two, and then sighed as any anger drained out of her.

“I know.” 

“I don’t even remember what happened,” Rose said.  “After I broke that bottle, everything is just black.”

Cara nodded.  “I’m not surprised.”  She turned to head back into the house, waving her hand over her head.  “Well, come on.  I’ll fill you in.  You’re not gonna like it, though.”


	6. Chapter 6

**(Hancock)**

It was three days before Hancock returned to Sanctuary.  He could’ve made the turnaround in two, but he needed the extra time away to think, get his head on straight.  Not like there was any privacy to be had escorting a caravan or at the Slog, but it was easier than inventing reasons to be scarce. 

In all honesty, he almost hadn’t gone back.  Every instinct he had was telling him to run, to cut his losses, bail out.  If someone had suggested that four days ago, he would’ve knocked them on their ass.  But seeing Rose lying on the bed, barely more than a corpse- and knowing that she had done it to herself- made the urge to return to Goodneighbor so strong it was painful.  Life there could be rough, but at least it was easier than this.

He thought he had been helping her.  Instead, he had achieved the complete opposite.  He was such a goddamn _idiot_.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t get Garvey’s damn accusations out of his head.  Part of what pissed him off so bad was that the boy scout was right… or at least half right.  Too many of his stupid mistakes put Rose in harm’s way.  For about the millionth time, he asked himself if it’d be better if he left, if it was selfish to want to stay.  He couldn’t tell anymore if he was doing her more harm than good.

He’d asked Cara that same question when she pulled him back from cleaning Garvey’s clock.  She had talked with him for most of the night about it, actually.  She was good that way.  She could’ve raged at him, put a gun to his head, sent his ass packing, and he wouldn’t have blamed her.  Instead she stayed up for hours trying to help him piece together his thoughts.  When he asked her point-blank why she wasn’t feeding him to her deathclaw, she said the choice to use the chems had ultimately been Rose’s… though she warned him that if he ever enabled the habit again, she had several creative ideas on how to make him suffer.  He wholeheartedly believed it.

Wiseman had similar views when Hancock had picked his brain over a shared pack of smokes.  He rolled over their conversation in his mind now, replaying the old ghoul’s gravelly tones in his head:

 

_“ **You** messed up?  What makes you think what she did has got anything to do with you?”_

_“S’all my fault, Wiseman.  I’m the one who let her turn to chems.  And I never shoulda let her run off on her own.  Not in a state like that.”_

_“Listen McDon- sorry, Hancock.  John.  You really think this would’ve turned out any different if you hadn’t been there?”_

_“If I had been there to-”_

_“Grief’s a powerful thing, John.  Everyone’s gotta find a way to deal with it, and your girl ain’t the first to look to chems to numb the pain.  Could be that without you, she might’ve looked down the barrel of her own gun first.”_

_“Yeah, and maybe she woulda been just fine.” (Pause) “I don’t know that I can handle her tryin’ again, Wiseman.”_

_“You think she might?”_

_“I got no fuckin’ clue.  I don’t even wanna think about it, but I can’t get it outta my head, you know?”_

_“Well, you gotta choose your poison.  You got two choices:  go back to Goodneighbor and live without her, or stay and help her the best you can.”_

_“Tryin’ that is how we ended up in this fucking mess.”_

_“Love ain’t easy, John, and neither is working through grief.  It’s up to you to decide if what the two of you got’s worth the risk.”_

 

He had considered that gamble well into the night.  Wiseman had gone on to ask him what Rose would’ve done if their roles were reversed; he didn’t even need to think to know the answer to that one.  Rose would stay.  If it had been him on that bed instead of her, she would stay, and probably run herself ragged trying to put him back together.  Tackling problems head-on was her specialty.  Running- up until this point in time- had been his.

That was the thought he focused on with every step he took away from the Slog.  That, and the utterly bleak prospect of returning to Goodneighbor without her.  Funny how the place that had been home to him for the past decade now seemed like anything but.  It helped a bit to remember that the last time he split for the town, he’d ended up gutshot.  Poetic piece of karmic retribution, that.

The sun was well on its way to sinking when Sanctuary’s familiar outline came into view.  Hancock began to skirt around the edge of the creek, headed for the bridge.  The water was low enough that he could’ve waded through, but he didn’t much feel like getting his boots wet… and maybe he was procrastinating a bit, too.  He wondered if Rose was awake yet… and if she was, what would he say to her?  He still couldn’t even make sense of everything he was feeling over the whole damn situation.  How would a conversation like that even start?  Would she try to pretend like nothing had happened?  Would he let her if she did? 

Anger, regret, relief and nerves all swirled hotly inside his chest, until it felt like a flamer had been shoved down his throat.  Did he even have the right to be pissed at her?  Either way, it was there.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t immediately hear the choppy thrum that cut through the afternoon air.  He looked up just in time to see the shape of a vertibird landing on the opposite side of the settlement.  The sight had his adrenaline up in an instant.

_The Brotherhood of Steel?  What the hell are those fucks doin’ out here?_

Whatever the Brotherhood wanted, he knew it couldn’t be good.  The general anxiety he’d felt for the past several days faded, replaced with eagerness at the prospect of a fight.  He could go for teaching some chrome-plated pricks a lesson.  He picked up the pace, checking the barrels of his shotgun as he went.

Everything was still quiet as Hancock reached the bridge into Sanctuary.  No gunshots, no shouting… which was kinda disappointing, but alright enough if it meant that no one got hurt (well, no one he cared about, at least).  It looked like most of the settlers had gathered to watch whatever was going down.  A few of the more capable ones had their guns out; Sanctuary didn’t often get hit by raiders or other threats, but old habits died hard for many… and rightly so.

Rose stood nearby the empty lot were the vertibird had landed, her back turned to him.  Relief temporarily washed over him as he saw her standing tall and alert.  He had waited until the doc had given the all-clear before heading out to the Slog, but just because her body was okay didn’t mean her mind was gonna bounce back.  The fact that she was up (and hopefully in the middle of giving those overgrown trashcans hell) was a good sign.

No one seemed to pay much attention to his approach.  Preston flanked her left side; Cara stood on her right.  Their attention was entirely focused on the familiar power-armor-clad figure in front of them.  _Of fucking course._

“Do you really think this is a good idea, Rose?” Preston was asking.  He had his hand on Rose’s shoulder, and was standing far too close to her for Hancock’s liking.  “We don’t know that we can trust Elder Maxson.  And you’re still…”

“Hungover?” Rose interjected sharply.

“I was going to say recovering.”

“Don’t bother sugarcoating it, Preston.  It is what it is.”

Hancock couldn’t help but smirk as Rose put the minuteman in his place.  _Atta girl._

He was only a few yards away when Danse finally noticed him.  The soldier’s face almost twisted into a grimace, but he caught himself and smoothed it over with a carefully stoic expression.  _Coward._   It’d be an easy bet that the polite act was all for Rose’s benefit.  The tin can was probably still hopeful that he could rope her into becoming one of their gun-toting, brainwashed legion.

 “Hancock,” Danse said evenly, causing them all to turn in unison.  “I was beginning to think you had stayed in Goodneighbor.”

“Miss me that much, didja, Crew Cut?”  Hancock drew even with the group, his knife spinning idly around his fingers.  “Decided to throw a party without sendin’ me an invite?  I’m hurt.”

He carefully avoided looking at Rose as he talked.  He could feel her eyes on him, but at the moment he felt like he would either end up shaking her senseless, or pin her up against the nearest wall and fuck her until neither of them could stand.  Maybe both.  Either way, this was neither the time nor the place (though the thought of fucking Rose in front of Danse did have a certain appeal…)

Danse ignored him and refocused on Rose.  “I understand this is sudden, but time is of the essence.  This is an urgent matter, and Elder Maxson does not like to be kept waiting.”

Hancock frowned.  Did that mean… was Rose going with him?  He glanced over at her and noticed for the first time that she had her pack resting by her feet.  She was.

“Hold up, what’s happening?”

Cara crossed her arms.  “This guy says that Emperor Max-”

“Elder Maxson,” Danse corrected her tersely.

“ _Elder Maxson_ wants to meet with Rose, like right now, to discuss the Institute.”  Cara looked at her sister, her brow creased with concern.  “Something doesn’t feel right, Rose.”

Danse looked affronted.  “If you’re implying that the Brotherhood would harm an innocent civilian-”

“I doubt Maxson looks at me as just as ‘innocent civilian,’” Rose said pointedly.  “But I’ve been meaning to have a few words with him anyway.  I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

“Well, you’re not going alone, at least,” Preston insisted.  “I-”

“I’ve got that covered, boy scout.”  Hancock patted him a little harder on the back than was necessary.  “You stay here and make sure these folks don’t get too outta hand while we’re gone.”

 Preston gave him a hard look.  “I don’t think _you_ should be the one covering the General on this.”

“Fight ya for it,” Hancock replied tauntingly, baring his teeth in a grin when Preston’s cheeks darkened.  “Think you’re ready for round two?”

“Don’t start.”  Rose quickly stepped in between the two of them, looking stern.  “John can come with me.  Preston, you stay here and look after Cara and the others.”  She held up a hand when Preston opened his mouth to argue.  “This is a meeting, Preston, not a battle, and there is no reason to suspect that we won’t be given safe passage.  Right, Danse?”

Danse nodded.  “The Brotherhood wants no quarrel with the Minutemen, I can assure you of that.”  He hesitated for a beat, and began to add, “Though it might give a better impression if-”

“It’s settled then.”  Rose’s tone was final.  Preston looked like he still wanted to disagree, but she silenced him with a sharp look.  “It’s.  Settled.  Preston.  I’ll be in contact via radio and messages to Sturgis’s terminal.  We shouldn’t be gone for much more than a day or two.”

Preston finally relented, giving her a terse and reluctant nod.  Rose squeezed his shoulder briefly, and then turned to hug Cara.  She clung to her sister tightly for several moments.  When she let go, Cara immediately stepped over and wrapped her arms around Hancock’s neck, squeezing him tightly.

“Thanks for coming back,” she said to him quietly.  “Take care of her out there, okay?”

Hancock nodded.  He returned her hug briefly, and then gave a cocky wink to Danse.

“So guess we’re headin’ out together again.  Always wanted to take one of those vertibirds for a spin…”

“There is not a single scenario where I would permit you to pilot that aircraft.”

“Would it kill ya to loosen up from time to time, Dansey?”

Danse’s expression was stony.  “If that involves you operating heavy machinery, then almost certainly yes.”

A fair point there… not that he’d admit it.  Hancock finally looked at Rose, meeting her eyes as he jerked his head towards the waiting craft.

“After you, Sunshine.”


	7. Chapter 7

**(Rose)**

Rose’s heart pounded in time with the chopping of the vertibird’s blades as they glided over the Commonwealth.  She wasn’t big on heights; she had only flown on a plane twice before the war for this very reason.  Now she found herself at least fifteen hundred feet above the ground, with nothing but a thin belt and a handrail to keep her from tumbling out.  She clenched her teeth and tried to breathe evenly.  She couldn’t afford to look weak in front of Danse, or anyone else from the Brotherhood for that matter.  _Keep it together, Rose._

She snuck a glance at Hancock.  If being stuck in a flying deathtrap didn’t set her on edge enough, he was the other reason why her heart wanted to jailbreak out of her ribcage.  Every minute of the last three days had left her more certain that he’d finally had enough.  She had debated going after him a few times, like she had when he walked out on her in Cambridge; it would have been easy enough to track him down.  But each time she worked herself up to it, shame stopped her in her tracks.

It wasn’t the chem use.  Not exactly, anyway.  Being embarrassed of using chems with Hancock around made about as much sense as being ashamed of having your nose in a book around Cara.  What made the words lock up in her throat each time she glanced at him was that she’d been stupid enough to overdose.  She had very nearly killed herself, and he’d had to deal with it. 

She knew how furious she would be if she were in his place.  Furious and scared.  The fact that he was sitting beside her calmly did little to quell her anxiety.  He had barely looked at her since he had gotten back… hadn’t touched her, hadn’t conveyed anything about what he was feeling.  He had even talked more to Danse than he had to her.

_But he came back_ , she consoled herself, spine going rigid as the aircraft jostled in a gust of wind.  _He came back, and he volunteered to go with you.  That’s got to mean something._

She could only pray she was right.

Time passed wordlessly.  After what seemed like all night (but was really only a couple hours, judging from the time on her Pip-Boy), the imposing mass of the Prydwen loomed up ahead.  Rose stared hard at the massive airship and tried to focus her thoughts.  She needed to concentrate on Maxson.  Danse had said the Elder wanted to speak with her about finding a way to bring down the Institute; she knew the Brotherhood was aware of her vendetta.  Her concern laid with whether or not they knew how far she’d gotten.

They docked at one of the Prydwen’s ports with a jostling that had her convinced the vertibird was ready to fall to pieces.  Danse and his pilot hopped down onto the narrow metal platform with practiced ease; the fact that the whole thing vibrated when Danse’s power suit hit didn’t seem to bother them in the slightest.  Rose followed a little more cautiously.  She reached out automatically for Hancock’s hand to help steady her as she stepped down, and nearly lost her balance when he ignored her to move towards the main walkway.

“Careful!” Danse barked as he caught her arm.  He nearly had to shout to be heard over the wind and the whirring of vertibird engines.  “Stay sharp… there’s no coming back if you misstep out here!”

“Clumsy me,” Rose replied, trying to compensate for the awkwardness with an exaggerated wave of her hands.  Her face felt so hot she was certain she was red all the way to the roots of her hair.  “Guess I still need to get my sea legs… or whatever those are for flying.”

Danse looked between her and Hancock, who was busy sneering at soldiers who stared at him as they passed by.  Before he could finish putting it all together, she pushed forward and began walking towards the main part of the ship.

“Come on!” she shouted over her shoulder.  “Let’s not keep the Elder waiting.” 

* * *

She wasn’t certain what to expect.  When Danse spoke of Elder Maxson, he did so with a sense of reverent loyalty.  She knew that the Brotherhood leader commanded the absolute obedience and respect of every man or woman under his command.  When she tried to form an image of the man in her head, she often saw a grizzled war hero, or perhaps a figure like the generals who were featured in pro-enlistment propaganda during the war.  His title certainly put her in mind of an older man, chiseled and hardened from years of war against the Brotherhood’s enemies.

Instead, the man she was presented with was actually… a boy.

Well, “boy” might have been stretching things.  She doubted there was a soul alive who would make the mistake of calling him that to his face.  Maxson had the razor-sharp, confident bearing of a military leader; his beard and scars helped him look the part.  But there was still no denying that he was young.  It was hard to gauge specifics, but Rose estimated that he was at least in his early twenties… at most no older than she was.  If he were clean-shaven, he might have even come across as younger than Cara.

Age didn’t mean much here, though.  Maxson was still a powerful man, and one whose actions she couldn’t entirely predict.  If anything, his youth only added another dangerous variable to this visit; a lack of life experience could make him impulsive or hotheaded.  She had to stay on guard.

“General Rose,” he greeted her, inclining his head.  He didn’t extend his hand, she noted; was that intended to be a lack of respect, or was it simply cautious?  “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me so quickly.”

“Danse said it was urgent.  And it’s just Rose, by the way.  The ‘general’ bit really only applies to the minutemen.”

“Very well.  Rose it is.” 

His attention shifted over to Hancock, who stood a couple feet behind her.  Rose studied his face closely; he was careful not to change his expression, but she caught the disgust that formed in his eyes. 

“And this is…?”

Hancock looked the Elder over, his stance deceptively relaxed.  “Don’t mind me; couldn’t pass up a tour.”

“Mayor Hancock of Goodneighbor,” Danse chimed in dutifully.  “A well-known… associate, of Rose’s.”

Maxson nodded once, expression grim.  “Goodneighbor.  I’ve heard of it.”  He clasped his arms behind his back, gaze fixed resolutely back on Rose.  “I must confess, that you would travel with that thing makes me question your judgment.  Interesting that you would choose to bring it along to this meeting.”

“Thing?” Hancock growled, bristling.  Rose felt her own ire bubble up in kind; the racism went all the way to the top, it seemed.

“The minutemen protect all peaceful inhabitants of the Commonwealth, Maxson,” Rose stated, reaching out to still Hancock with a hand on his arm.  “That includes ghouls.  If you can’t restrain your prejudice, then you’re going to find we have very little to discuss.”

“My apologies, then.  I didn’t ask you here to debate over our respective values.”  Hancock snorted; Maxson ignored him.

Maxson began to slowly pace in front of them, which put Rose in mind of a wolf sizing up its prey.  She felt her hair prickle all down the back of her neck.  Maxson’s presence vibrated with a carefully controlled anger.  He hid it well, with (mostly) polite words and the practiced mask of cool authority, but she could see it in every step he took… could practically smell it in the air.  At best, he had some kind of vendetta.  At worst, he was a zealot. 

If nothing else, this meeting confirmed her suspicions:  the BoS would not be a stable guest in the Commonwealth for long.  Danse had said they would be safe for this meeting; she trusted the paladin even if she didn’t trust the rest of his outfit.  But it was becoming abundantly clear that the Brotherhood was going to have to be dealt with sooner or later.

“I have been following your endeavors for a while,” Maxson said, after considering his words for a moment.  “Your name came up remarkably quickly when our scouts first began seeking out information on the Institute.  I began to pay more attention after Paladin Danse informed me of your aid to him and his team, and of your trip into the Glowing Sea.  A trip which I was told was unsuccessful.”

Rose crossed her arms and resisted the urge to look at Danse.  “That’s correct.  I thought I would be able to find someone there who knew how to get into the Institute… but we were too late.”

“But you found a way regardless.”  She didn’t respond, and he chuckled.  “Do not bother playing coy, Rose.  I may not know how you achieved it, but I have multiple reports telling me that you have not only discovered a way into the Institute, but that you have been able to go there and return unscathed.  A feat no one in the Commonwealth has been able to match, as of yet.”

The tension in the room was escalating.  Rose longed to move; her position was great for confronting Maxson, but terrible from a tactical standpoint.  She felt rather than saw Hancock switch over to her right side, putting himself where he could see Maxson, Danse, and the doorway all at once.  She was beginning to fear that Cara had been right.  How far did her trust for Danse go?  Did she trust him to prioritize his word to her over the command of his superiors?  She should’ve asked herself that before getting into that vertibird.  Stupid mistake.

“The Institute is a malignant growth that needs to be cut out before it infects the surface,” Maxson continued, stopping his pace to stand directly in front of her.  “I’m sure you agree.  The Brotherhood of Steel has the means to make this happen.  All I need from you is their location.”

And there it was.  She’d suspected that was Maxson’s goal.

“What do you plan to do?”

“Wipe them from the face of the earth.  That is your goal too, or was I misinformed?”

 Rose felt her heart sink into her gut.  “Maxson… I agree that the Institute needs to be stopped, but not everyone there is guilty.  There are innocent people there.  Families, and children.  People who have never done any harm.”

Maxson gave an unfeeling shrug.  “Collateral damage.  I won’t shed tears over people whose ungodly experiments would bring about the extinction of mankind.”

Hancock’s voice was a low, disapproving hum in his throat.  “I think genocide’s a new low, even for you assholes.”

“Teach your pet to hold its tongue, Rose, or we’ll do it for you.”

“That’s enough!” Rose’s growl erupted out of her throat just as Hancock started forward.  She stepped up into Maxson’s face, teeth bared.  “I can see you for what you are.  The Commonwealth doesn’t need your ‘help,’ and neither do I.  I’ll deal with the Institute on my own, in a way that doesn’t involve needless mass murder.”

Maxson met her fiery gaze coolly.  “I’m disappointed to hear that.  Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of accepting no for an answer.”

He nodded behind her; she turned just in time to be strong-armed by two soldiers who had silently appeared.  One quickly pulled her gun away while the other wrenched her arms around her back, snapping handcuffs in place over her wrists.  Two others were subduing Hancock, using quite a bit more force. 

 “Danse?” Rose demanded, struggling against her captors.  “What is this?  You promised us we’d be safe!”

“You’re in no immediate danger,” Maxson said.  “Unlike some of your other acquaintances, we are not monsters.  But the Commonwealth is in the middle of a war, and I can’t afford to let you walk when you possess information that is crucial to our victory.”

“Fucking rat!” Hancock snarled.  One of the soldiers restraining him drove a fist swiftly into his jaw, almost knocking him off his feet.

“Stop it!” Rose tried to pull her wrists free, but the soldier behind her yanked her arms back hard enough to send pain shooting through her shoulder blades.  “Let us go!”

Danse looked pained, but made no move to interfere.  “Elder Maxson, is detainment truly necessary?  Rose has proved herself an ally to the Brotherhood-”

“The Institute must be stopped at all costs, Paladin,” Maxson said.  “We need that information, one way or another, and we can’t risk her running off to warn the Institute of our plans.  As soon as she decides to cooperate, she will be freed.”

“But Elder-”

“You are not to interfere, Paladin.  That’s an order.”  He turned to the soldiers holding Rose.  “Take her down to the holding area.  As for her… ‘companion’…”

“If you hurt him I will burn this entire airship to the ground,” Rose snarled.

“Permission to make a suggestion, Elder?” Danse asked quickly; Maxson gave him a curt nod.  “It may be best to keep the two of them together.  I can guarantee that the ghoul will run to her allies if we let him walk, and the alternative would guarantee that we lose her cooperation on any front.”

Maxson looked unconvinced.  “That thing is a danger to everyone onboard.”

“Damn right,” Hancock growled, earning him another punch into the stomach.  He grunted, doubling over.  “Awful tough when the punching bag can’t hit back, eh, tin dick?”

“I’ve spent time with both of them,” Danse replied.  “The ghoul is no friend to the Institute, and disapproves of Rose’s chosen method of dealing with them.  He may be able to talk some sense into her.”  He put a little emphasis on that sentence, pausing to give Hancock a significant look.  “He’ll want to save his own skin.  We can use that to our advantage.”

When Maxson still seemed unconvinced, Danse tried one last time.  “They’ll be unarmed, Elder.  On an airship hundreds of feet in the air, surrounded by trained soldiers.  No way to escape, no way to cause harm, no methods of communication.”

Maxson finally exhaled in a brusque sigh.  “Very well.  Take them both to holding.”  He stepped over to Rose, his gaze cutting into her.  “But if either of them try anything, put a bullet through his head first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Maxson was a bit of a challenge in this, so hopefully his characterization is correct. I never actually played much into the BoS timeline myself because I can't stand them in FO4 (if you can't already tell lol), so I had to watch what I could of Maxson's interactions on youtube and then research the rest of his dialogue options in written form.
> 
> But there's a fun little cliffhanger for you all! Things are gonna get sort of canon-divergent ahead... definitely interested to see where this fic ends up.


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